Twas two days before Christmas, and all through my tummy, not an intestine was digesting, not even a crumb-y. My feeding bags hung on the IV pole with care, in hopes that nutrition soon would be there. With my dogs and I laying a-snug in my bed, and Muppet Christmas carols playing through earbuds in my head, knitting a last-minute Christmas day gift, I smile, content, and my spirits do lift.
Okay, I’m not a poet, and I certainly know it. So here’s a picture of my adorable dogs to make up for it.
But there is a point to my sappy spoonie story-time, and that is a message I want everyone with chronic illness to realize, that I have slowly realized in my past four years with chronic illness. [Read more…]